


Rare-Pair Drabble Hell

by CandyCryptids



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Biting/scratching/marking, Blowjobs, Fantasy starbucks, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Probably going to add more AU's if I'm being honest ahaha, Selfies, Semi-Public Sex, Skirts that are too short, There's other characters but these are drabbles so they're not super important and thusly not tagged, Vaguely mentioned vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 05:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyCryptids/pseuds/CandyCryptids
Summary: Check the notes at the start of each chapter for specific warnings, pairing will be the chapter name, hope y'all like that Rare-Pair Gay Shit™





	1. John/Merle (Nsfw)

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to try writing some John/Church and apparently that means writing smut for the first time in a while. 
> 
> Vaguely mentioned Vibrators, Semi public sex, Blowjobs in the bathroom.

John smiles cordially, elbows resting on the table and hands folded neatly under his chin, a menu laid in front of him, closed, a glass of wine each for him and his table guest, who squirmed a little under the even gaze, cheeks just a little pink. 

“Do you know what you want to order yet, Merle?” John asks, eyes glittering with a hidden mischief, taking an oh so graceful sip of wine. “I've heard the steak here is to die for delicious, but then, that's not their specialty is it? No, it's Tacos right?” 

 

“Yep,” Merle replies, sounding distracted, shifting in his chair some, like he just couldn't quite get comfortable. “Taako’s real proud of that shit, too,” He exhales hard through his nose, takes a deep breath, and gulps down half his glass of wine in one go. 

“You know we've gotta-” there's a pause, a little shiver visibly running down his body, and John grins at him with all those infuriatingly beautiful white teeth. “-gotta try them at least once, or we won't hear the end of it.” 

 

“Mmm. Of course.” John swirls the wine in his glass, taking a sip, and then picking up the red wine bottle to pour Merle a refill, before he ran out, maintaining an almost uncomfortable amount of eye contact. 

 

The server strides up to them, a half-elf with a name badge that read 'Taylor’, notepad and pen in hand, dressed sharply for their posh job working with THE Taako From T-V. 

 

“Hello, Gentleman, are you ready to place your orders?” They ask, with a friendly smile, looking between them both. One of John's hands disappears under the table, into one of his pants pockets. 

 

“Yes, I think we are,” he says smoothly, looking at the Server without touching his menu. “I'll have the Fajita Taco's, and a bowl of your Pozole, please.” His gaze flicks from the server to Merle's face, his face an even, pleasant mask. “What about you,  _ Dear _ ?” 

 

Merle opens the menu, scrutinizing it a little too closely, eyes rapidly scanning over it again.

“Uh, yknow I think I'll h-have what he's. Having.” His voice stumbles a little, as he snaps the menu shut and holds it out to the Server in both hands without making eye contact. 

 

Taylor looks a ghost of concerned for just a moment, looking between the two men, the wine on the table, and then takes the menu from Merle, and then John, smiling again. “I'll get that started right away for you sirs, my name is Taylor if you need anything at all.” Their gaze lingers a little on Merle when they say 'anything’. 

 

John snickers when he overhears them whispering excitedly to another server, “I think they're getting engaged!! What do I do?!” 

 

Merle's hands are on the table, gripping the edge hard enough his knuckles are turning white, his breathing forcibly even, though there's no denying the red tint to the tips of his ears, swearing quietly under his breath and rolling his hips forward, just once, before he stops himself. “You're an asshole,” he hisses, biting his lip when John's hand slips under the table into that damn pants pocket again, and Merle  _ writhes _ , biting down a sound behind his hand, trying to disguise it with a cough. 

 

“You're free to say the word whenever you decide you've had enough, Merle,” John purrs, smoothing a hand through his own hair. “but we both know you  _ love _ this. The Server thinks you're going to propose to me. Isn't that cute? What's their name, Merle, do you remember?” He’s leaned back in his chair now, idly swirling the glass of wine again, watching Merle's face as he struggled with forming coherent sentences.

 

“I-its uh, T-... Tyler, right?” Merle keeps both his hands above the table, legs crossed, trying so hard to steady his voice, failing.

 

“No.” Merle watches John's hand dip into his pocket and muffles another keening note into his palm, hips bucking forward again. “It's  _ Taylor _ , Merle, we just heard their name. Forgetful, aren't we?”  

 

Merle looks about ready to break, visibly shaking somewhat, eyes wet, but not overflowing just yet. John takes pity on him.

Excuses himself from the table and crooking a “follow me” finger as he gets up, leading the dwarf to the bathroom, not hesitating to crowd him into the handicap access stall and shut it behind them, bending down to catch Merle's lips in a bruising kiss, palming an aching erection through the front of his pants with his wrists pinned over his head, practically devouring him. 

John unzips and shoves Merle's pants down with one practiced hand, and the low humming buzz becomes much easier to hear, the Dwarf huffing out a strained “John,  _ please, _ ” as John breaks their kiss briefly, for air. 

 

“Be quieter,” he warns in a hushed voice, kissing Merle's jaw as he kneels down, letting go of his wrists. It only takes a second before those newly freed hands are messing up his perfectly styled hair, and he growls a frustrated warning as he takes the Dwarf into his mouth, and down his throat, bobbing his head with a lewd wet noise that had him falling apart in record time. Merle sags against the wall, panting for air, still so sensitive and so overwhelmed, while John finally clicks off the goddamn vibe he'd fitted Merle with before they'd left for their date. It's a team effort to put themselves back together before they leave the bathroom to finish their date, and their Server is only a little disappointed when they pass on dessert, and there's no presentation of rings to be emotional about. 


	2. Magic Brian/Brad "Isn't that skirt too short for you?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive date night shenanigans  
> Brian wears a skirt and Brad has a weakness for long legs
> 
> also shameless music plugging and excessive descriptions of clothes

Brad takes a deep, steadying breath, wearing a blazer over his usual work attire and swapping the neck tie out for a bow tie, finding it might help impress the fact that he had put in the effort to dress up. Not just his regular business clothes, and to top it off, he was holding a bundle of flowers behind his back, an arrangement of red and purple flowers with a spray of red spider lilies at its center. 

 

He didn't know  _ shit _ about flowers, but knowing there were  _ spider _ lilies in this last second arrangement would hopefully strike an affectionate chord with Brian. Another minute, hesitating, frowning at the door, checking his watch. Ten minutes early is acceptable, but eleven? Preposterous. 

 

At exactly 6:20 he knocks on the door, and there's a lilting voice answering soon after, “Come in darling, the door's open~” so enter he did, cautious of Bryan potentially being out to say hello personally. 

 

The room looked as it typically did, lived in, but tidy, though Brad was starting to wonder if there were still clothes left here with the growing number showing up in his own laundry.

“I know I'm a little early, I hope that's okay, I didn't want to keep you waiting, babe,” Brad calls, edging into the living space, ears perking at the music playing. ( _ Magic- Mystery Skulls) _ From the bedroom? Brian must not be ready yet. 

 

“Not to worry Darling,” Brian's voice floats through the cracked door. “I just need another minute to put on my shoes!” and Brad should have taken the hint right then when that wasn't followed up with 'and then we can get going’. 

Oh well.

Instead, he busies himself with finding a vase for the bouquet he'd brought, checking cabinets with care, eventually having to give up and use a pitcher for lemonade with a beautiful swirling handle, filling it with ice water and setting it down on the dining room table. Or at least, he assumed that's what it was. There's a few letters spread on it, and a lovely thin woven doily laid across it that looked so delicate it could be made from spider silk.

 

Actually, it probably IS spider silk.. 

 

His thoughts grind to a halt when Brian whistles from the doorway, music having moved on to the next track, ( _ Bad Girls - M.I.A _ ), and Brad turns, cheeks immediately burning, ears ticking straight up attentively. 

 

Brian’s in a tight fitting purple halter crop, with a wide rectangle cut out of the front to just under his chest, criss crossed with thin black straps that  accentuated the lovely hue of his skin, a band of purple fabric at the bottom holding it against his skin. There's a tantalizing stripe of skin between his shirt, and a leather skirt that hugged his waist like a glove, down over his hips, ending far too early on his thighs to be called decent, especially if Brian were to bend, literally at all. 

 

It doesn't help that he's leaned against the doorframe, one hip popped, long silvery hair tousled and loose, the picture of a supermodel. Or a hooker, based on the lace up boots that crept up his long legs all the way to his thighs. 

 

Brad can't help but stare, eyes roaming up and down the picture Brian's painted for him, stunned for a good long minute before he finally speaks.

“You're allowed to wear whatever makes you happy, my dear, but I can…” he stalls out, eyes stuck on his legs, on the curve that his ass makes in the pose he'd struck, regarding him over round purple lenses and sharp eyeliner.

 

“you can what, darling?” Brian purrs with a predatory grin, dislodging himself from the door and sauntering over to touch Brads cheek, dark pigmented lips so close to touching his, then suddenly pulling away, as Brian's attention is drawn to the flowers instead. 

“Oh!! Did you bring these Darling~? You shouldn't have, they're so lovely,” Brian coo's, bending over to smell them with a pleased hum, flipping his hair over one shoulder to show off the backless nature of this halter and the fading hickeys there. 

 

This isn't coincidence. Brad bites his lip, glancing down at Brian's ass, and as if he can feel his eyes on him, he gives his hips a little shake. This is well planned mental ass-fare.

. . . .

_ War _ fare. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at my Tumblr Candycryptids? If you ask real nice I'll try to take requests


	3. Magic Brian/Brad Bradson (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee in the morning and awkward slips of the tongue

Wednesday is always a tough day to shoulder, for one reason or another, so Brad had started a tradition for himself to make it easier. Or at least, provide himself incentive. It required rising a little earlier, giving his coffee pot a break for a day, and waiting in a line that's entirely too long in the morning at the local Fantasy Starbucks, but it gave him an excellent chance to people watch, getting a small glimpse into everyone else's equally hectic mornings. These poor Barista's, bless their hearts, deserve all the tips they get plus at least fifty percent extra for working the nightmare rush hours.

There's Johann, looking ready to collapse into creative despair and what had to be his third hot chocolate, music sheets spread out in front of him and two other presumed empty cups sitting on the table. Killian, just ahead of him in line, her hair up in a messy bun and stifling a yawn. In front of her, though, ordering in a meeting voice, was Brian, and Brad’s thoughts and focus tuned in. 

“I'll have an upside down iced caramel macchiato with an extra Espresso shot and a caramel drizzle, with almond milk instead of 2%, Darling” he orders smoothly, like he'd ordered the same thing every morning, paying for his expensive drink and then stepping from line to wait for his order. Killian is up next, but Brad's a bit more distracted watching a gorgeous Drow lean against the sugar and napkins station against the window where morning light filtered in and painted Brian in angelic golden hues. Gorgeous. Angelic. 

 

“Sir? Next please?” the tiefling behind the counter asked, rousing him from his thoughts as he stepped up to the counter, clearing his throat and ordering his usual. A flat white with an extra pump of peppermint. “And what name do I put down for the order, sir?”

 

“Brian Bradson,” Brad answered absently, glancing back at Brian with a dopey smile, paying and going to wait back with the Drow in question, not realizing his slip. 

 

“Ah, good morning Darling, I never even knew you came here!” Brian grins, all pristine sharp teeth. 

 

“Only on Wednesdays, Brian, it's traditional. Treat yourself Wednesday! It was something I saw in a show once, and, well.. I kind of like doing it. Once in a while can't hurt, right?” Brad talks, just a little too much, overshares, but it's all… safe. Vanilla bean ice cream in a bowl. “How's working in the field been treating you?”

 

“Oh, you know, I don't know how they ever got by without me, I practically carry our team, but I like it enough so far. I miss seeing you in the break room, though…” Brian trails off, and sidles over a little closer, so their shoulders touched. “You should come do a live evaluation of our team sometime, hmmm?”

 

“That's actually not a bad idea!” Brad perks up, missing the intent behind the suggestion by a country mile, purposefully. They're in  _ public _ for gods sake.

 

“I've got an upside down caramel macchiato for Brian?” A blessed distraction, as Brian retrieves his complicated drink. 

 

“You know, I've been coming here for months but I've never thought to order anything too complicated, are those any good?” Brad asks, once Brian returns to stand with him, apparently opting to hang around instead of heading straight to work like a certain orc might have. 

 

Brian doesn't turn to face him, though his eyes flick to look at him, eyes half lidded and sipping from his drink. “What, this? Do you want to try a sip, darling?” 

 

Brad looks at the drink held out to him, weighing the options as someone calls for Killian, a Caramel Frappuccino this time. “I don't see the harm in it,” he says slowly, starting to lean over when-

 

“Brian Bradson?” The tiefling that took his order called, and Brad freezes, looking up at Brian from where he'd almost, almost taken a sip. 

 

Brian pulls his drink back with a sharp, toothy grin, “Darling, I  **THINK** that's for you, but  _ maybe _ it's for me?” he teases with a wink of all things, as Brad collected his drink with too much color flushing his cheeks to pretend he wasn't totally flustered at his own mistakes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does everyone drink caramel Starbucks drinks ???? Asking as someone who can't afford to drink Starbucks


	4. Magic Brian/Brad Bradson (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some self indulgent tender Kissing in the office with Magic/Brad because I just, need more content for them. Always.

 Brad is caught by surprise in his own office by the Drow he'd started seeing. Well, sort of seeing. Seeing in the sense that, he'd see him with his eyes, occasionally in non-work settings, for things that could be considered romantic, like walks through the quad or quiet dinners in one of their dorms and cheesy romantic comedy films. Definitely not an actual romantic relationship that needed reporting to The Director, though. Especially not with the hideous difference in their positions. Head of HR dating someone in the office?? That's. Definitely not allowed. 

 

Neither is the way he backs up against the wall, with Brian pulling on his tie in a way that makes his knees weak, catching his lips and awkward protruding tusks in a tender kiss, his other hand resting on the orcs flushed cheek, beautiful nails just a hint of danger against his skin. 

 

Certainly not the way he whispers a breathless “I love you,” against his mouth when they break for air, and Brad loses his fingers in the silky softness of white hair, pressing open mouthed  kisses to Brian's jaw, down his neck, pulling him in tight by the waist. 

 

He may have been caught by surprise but he was by no means about to turn down whatever fortunes gave him this brief reprieve.

Brian laughs, hands moved to rest on Brad's hips, shifting to a quiet appreciative sigh when kisses  turn to nibbles. 

 

“what are you doing here, sweetheart?” Brad finally asks, after he thoroughly peppered Brian in more kisses than was ever professional. His hands have settled themselves on Brian's back, forehead pressed lightly against the shorter Drow’s, humming soft appreciation for the contact. 

 

“Well, Darling, a little spider told me it was your birthday next week,” Brian grins, his gloved hand resting back on Brad’s cheek again. “and I know you won't take off work to celebrate, so I'm declaring this entire week a celebration. I'll fit in enough celebrating to fill in for that evening, don't worry Darling,” he taps a finger on Brad's nose.

  
It's embarrassing that Brian knew when his birthday was better than Brad himself. It wasn't something he usually celebrated… usually busy. 


	5. Magic Brad [NSFW]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brad Bradson had a rough night the night before  
> The marks that were left distract him from morning rituals 
> 
> Just a real short thing about hickeys tbch. 
> 
> Mentions of Shower related shenanigans but, nothing really explicit.

Brad dresses consciously in the morning, rushes to make it to his own Motivational Morning Meeting, arriving just on time and hating the fact that he's _late._ On time is ten minutes early. Prepared. If anybody seated in the room noticed, though, they didn't say anything, and it wasn't as if this meeting was taken very seriously by the employees on Moon Base. He tried to make it Mandatory, even said it was, but the Director didn't back him up on it, so it's largely taken as a suggestion instead. Still, the regulars were there like clockwork, nursing coffee’s or nibbling on donuts - on Thursdays, one of them would volunteer to bring a dozen or so for everyone).

 

He feels off his game, waking up too late, arriving late, and there's a couple spots on his skin that he can still _feel_ as he paces at the front of the room, with a speech he comes up with on the fly every morning, incorporating the day's motivational quote from his planner, and some genuine words of encouragement to help start the day. A sizeable bruise on the inside of his thigh aches with each step, a loving gift from the night before. Breath in, ten... nine...

 

“Your only real weakness is giving up, my friends,” he starts, gesturing with a smile, “The most certain way to succeed is to _keep trying,_ and reach out to your friends, your co-workers, for help, when you feel you've hit an insurmountable wall. We're here to help uplift and support each other!”

 

He remembers Brian _supporting_ him up against the shower wall not twelve hours ago and his knees feel a little weak, though he keeps an impeccable poker face on. The bruise on his thigh throbs insistently, feeling the ghost of the teeth that had pressed there, the lewd noises when Brian had pulled back and grinned at him with predatory eyes.

 

He claps his hands together, takes a deep breath, tries to clear his head again.

“Now, I want all of you to challenge each other to one kind act for someone you normally wouldn't look twice at. A reminder, I'm so proud of all of you, and if you have any problems, don't hesitate to come see me in my office.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep writing "Mark" flavored drabbles, but I liked this one enough to share with y'all. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed it


	6. Selfies [Magic Brian/Brad, SFW]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 500 or so fluffy words about Modern aus and taking selfies on your partner's phone.  
> Uh, Magic Brian and Brad  
> To the shock of nobody

The number of times Brian asks with his sweet smile to borrow Brad's cellphone for this or that is reaching numbers not worth counting anymore. The drow bats his long white lashes, drops his long ears in an endearing, pleading way, pouts in a way it was hard to tell him ‘no’, as if he ever planned to.

“Darling, I left my phone in our room, can I borrow yours for just a second?” 

 

“Ah, yes, of course. … what for?” Brad asks, already pressing his thumb over the button, unlocking it with his thumbprint, passing it to Brian without even waiting for an answer; this event is commonplace. He should just register Brian's thumbprint, he's using the phone often enough.

 

“I wanted to check the hours on the spa, so I can schedule us a little outing together,” Brian winks, settling himself up against Brad’s side. The background on Brad’s phone had only recently been changed from generic blue swirl, to Brian, sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant, regarding the camera with sultry eyes, and a glass of wine in his slender fingers. Cute. 

 

Arguably, Brian had found the  _ best _ place to sit in the shared apartment; on the couch, curled up against his Fiancé’s side. It's a lazy Sunday morning, with the TV playing some magic cooking show Brad liked to watch, for the recipes as much as the theatrics. His cooking is decent enough, until he tries to cook “sizzle it up” style. Not nearly the same type of Magical Talent to perform the fancy tricks, but he  _ has  _ dropped a knife sharp side down on his hand enough times to drop the flair when he imitates the recipes, at least. There's a couple of scars on dark green skin to remind them both why knife tossing isn't a talent Brad should pursue. Places where the hospital nurses had stitched him up and told him to be more careful. 

 

He's distracted enough with his cooking show to not notice Brian had already looked up what he wanted a couple minutes ago, and had moved on to the camera app. Perfecting the droop of his eyelids, the pout of his lips, the just right angle with silver hair framed against a soft black shirt Brad had slipped on in the morning after his shower. Perfect.  _ Click. _

 

He shifts, pressing lip glossed lips against Brad's wrist, snaps another photo, relishing in the tender caress of his fingertips under his jaw in their idle stroking of soft skin. The next photo, he squirms to get Brad in the photo too, even if he wasn't paying attention. The next one gets his attention, though, the orc looking down at him through metal framed glasses and a sleepy, confused tilt of his head, a picture snapped halfway through him asking “What are you doing?” 

 

“Me? Oh, nothing at all darling, just saving you some memories.” Comes the smooth reply, and Brian takes one more picture, blind, this time pressing a sweet kiss to Brad's cheek, the Orc caught just off guard enough he doesn't move to meet his lips in time. 

 

“This hardly seems like a Google search, my love,” Brad says with a wry smile, as Brian locks the phone and casually drops the evidence behind him, looping his arms around Brad's neck instead. 

 

“We have an appointment next Saturday, at noon, 

and yet you accuse me of not doing what I said,” the Drow pouts, peppering deep green skin with kisses until Brad takes his chin in his hand with such loving care, holding him still to kiss him more soundly. 

 

“No, no, just of surprising me with more radiant pictures of your lovely face, though it's less of a surprise now, isn't it, sweetheart?” Their foreheads press together, smiling with a warm affection, rubbing Brian's back with slow soothing circles.

 

“Mm, I don't know, darling, I think there's still plenty of surprises to be had. Who said they were just pictures of my face?” Brian winks, as he moves to straddle his lover's hips instead, with his ears perked up in interest at the way Brad’s cheeks flushed hot. 

 

Not all Sundays are created equal; plans to laze about and take it easy for once, are forgotten, as is the T.V. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I come back after a long break, finish none of my unfinished thoughts, and instead write this up in one sleep deprived night. 
> 
> Comments keep a fire lit under my ass for writing but we have con prep and clean up/move in for our apartment still, so additions will be sporadic and maybe not very long. Or frequent.  
> I appreciate everyone who takes the time to read any of these though

**Author's Note:**

> Planning to update this with more drabbles as I continue writing incomplete thoughts about pairings


End file.
